


Fight Me

by DarthAbby



Series: Every Day With Someone New [3]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, Hospitals, Impossible Wolf, implied motorcycle accident, pure dumb fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4994260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAbby/pseuds/DarthAbby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara can't fight the ceiling tile that's annoying her so much, so the nurse will have to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr [post](http://butim-justharry.tumblr.com/post/127958696289/officialcadbane-ohsebs-ohsebs-ohsebs-my)

Clara glared up at the ceiling, feeling vaguely annoyed that the tile above her head was just barely off-color compared to the rest. It felt almost like a personal affront.

A quiet knocking drew her attention towards the door. A nurse stood there, smiling at her, and Clara felt even more annoyed at that for no apparent reason.

“Hello, Miss Oswald,” the nurse said as she walked in, picking up the clipboard at the end of Clara’s bed. “I’m going to be your nurse today. I’m Rose.” She scrawled her name on the whiteboard next to the door, and Clara wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relived that a little doodle of a rose wasn’t added to it immediately. “Anything I can do for you at the moment?”

“Fight me,” Clara muttered.

Rose’s mouth twisted, like she was trying not to laugh, and she shook out Clara’s blanket instead. “Maybe later,” she said. “How about more ice chips in the meantime?”

* * *

 

 

Clara was glaring at the cream colored ceiling tile again when Rose walked in later on.

“I heard you refused any dinner, Miss Oswald. Everything alright?”

“Depends on what you consider alright.”

That earned her a raised eyebrow. “In relative comfort and reasonably content.”

“I’ve got six different fractures, a concussion, and a bruise on my whole body. I don’t find that very comfortable,” she pointed out.

“No, I wouldn’t think so.”

“As for ‘reasonably content’, I’m stuck in the hospital and it’s very aggravating.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Oswald. Anything else?”

“Hospital food is shite.”

Rose’s mouth twisted again, though she managed to nod in agreement. “Unfortunately, it’s a common complaint that we can’t do much about.”

Clara grumbled a little. “’s alright for you, you don’t have to eat it.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Rose spoke again. “Would you eat some if I did?”

Clara pushed the button on the little remote hanging by her hand to raise the bed, and herself, into a sitting position. It took several minutes to reach her desired position, then she answered. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course.”

Rose said it so clearly, so matter-of-factly, that Clara found herself agreeing without another thought.

It still didn’t taste like much, but at least the company was better.

* * *

 

 

That tile was really starting to get on Clara’s nerves when Rose walked in the next day.

“Good morning, Miss Oswald.”

“Clara.”

“Pardon?” Rose looked up from the clipboard.

“Clara. You can call me Clara.”

“Alright,” Rose smiled and looked back down at the papers. “Anything I can do for you, Clara?”

“Fight me,” she repeated her words from the previous day.

“Now, why would I do that?” Rose asked, setting the clipboard down and going to shift some of Clara’s pillows around to make her more comfortable. “You’d win in a heartbeat.”

Clara smiled slightly at that, and Rose winked at her before offering more ice chips again.

* * *

 

“You’re going to set the ceiling on fire if you stare at it much harder.”

Looking away from that insufferable tile, Clara found Rose in the doorway, her mouth twisted again like she was trying not to laugh.

“If it did, would you at least replace all the tiles with the same color?”

All that earned her was a confused look, so Clara pointed up at what was quickly becoming the bane of her existence.

“Well, whoever did that is a bloody idiot,” Rose observed calmly. “Is that what’s been getting you so grumpy?”

“It might be part of it,” Clara admitted.

Rose shook her head fondly. “I’m afraid that I can’t do much about the ceiling, but I do have your next dose of painkillers here.”

“Thank you.” Her legs were starting to move beyond just achy, and into painful territory.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

* * *

 

Something smelled _awesome_ , way better than anything served by the hospital, and Clara was not about to pass up this possible opportunity for real food.

She opened her eyes, and was greeted by the wonderful sight of a travel mug of tea that looked suspiciously like it had been brewed at home and then brought to the hospital by someone. She didn’t really care at that moment who had made it, as long as she got to drink it.

Picking up the mug, she found a sticky note underneath it, with a phone number and a short message.

_Fight me?  - Rose_

Clara smiled and grabbed her phone from the table.

_To: Rose_   
_Of course_


End file.
